Dancing with the devil at the crossroads
by metawohoo
Summary: Post Season 1. In which a snake of a man is looking for his wife, and a boy discovers his father is not what he seems to be.
1. Chapter 1

"Do you know what your problem is, Gabriel Agreste? You don't have a soul."

\- Notes scribbled on the margin of a third year history textbook (1991 edition)

###

"It's not here," Chat Noir groaned, running his hands through his hair. "Not here, not at the park, nowhere on the way there, _nowhere_."

He still looked around, scanning the library's shelves _again_. Maybe someone had put the book back somewhere it did not belong. The history shelf, maybe. Adrien had only checked three times. His having missed the book was not totally out of the realm of possibilities.

He checked a fourth time.

After that, he flattened himself on the floor and ran his hand under every shelf and piece of furniture. Just in case. Then, he ran to mr. Damocles' office and rummaged through every drawer, just in case. You never knew. Maybe someone had found the book and given it to a teacher.

Once absolutely sure he had looked everywhere, the young hero checked every classroom. He considered opening everyone's lockers too. He knew for sure the book was not in _his_.

It was a nightmare.

He had gone through every room of the mansion. He had all but torn his fencing equipment apart. He had studied every _inch_ of the way to the park, and of the park itself.

He did not know where else to look.

Well, he had _one_ idea.

The last time he had seen the book, it had been at the library, right before running off to his fencing lesson. Lila had been with him.

That was a lead.

###

"Prqd,

L ihdu zh duh lq whuuleoh wurxeoh. Wkh slhfh ri mhzhoub ehorqjlqj wr rxu iulhqg C. kdv ehhq vwrohq. Lw zdv hqwluhob pb idxow - L zdv wulfnhg eb wkh vlpsohvw ri glyhuvlrqv - dqg L kdyh ehhq grlqj hyhubwklqj lq pb srzhu wr uhfryhu wkh vwrohq lwhp. Krzhyhu, wkh ohdgv duh vfdufh. Z. dqg L kdyh ehhq orrnlqj hyhubzkhuh, zlwk W.'v khos, wr qr dydlo. L ihdu wurxeoh lv frplqj. Y. pljkw eh qhhghg djdlq.

L zloo nhhs brx lqiruphg ri dqb qhz ghyhorsphqwv. Vkrxog brx khdu derxw wkh lwhp ru iurp C., frqwdfw ph lpphgldwhob."

\- Unsigned letter sent to Mona D'Onofrio, March 1990

###

"She is very promising," Fu said, watching a thoughtful Marinette pace in the street underneath them.

"She _is_ ," Tikki confirmed, leaning over the edge of the balcony to observe her older. "Quick with, strength, courage and determination. All of that in spades."

She was proud of Marinette. So very proud.

"And _you_ make a fantastic bald cat from Kowa," the old man added in a teasing tone.

"Won in a tap dance contest and everything," Wayzz chimed in. "That was new."

Tikki pouted a little.

"She does have a tendency to… try to explain her way out of trouble in a… creative fashion," the red Kwami replied. "Some lying, some trickery, a quickness to succumb to jealousy and to overreact. That is true. But those are traits she will grow out off with the proper guidance. She has a good heart."

"I agree with you. Tell me the boy is a good partner. I was counting on him to temper her a little."

Tikki beamed.

"He is an _excellent_ partner. He loves her _so_ much, but he does not let that love get in the way of calling her out when she misbehaves. Also, Plagg never managed to bully him into doing _nothing_ , which has been known to happen."

Fu smiled, breathing in and looking at the sky.

"I have great hopes for those two. They will be among the best heroes we ever saw, have no doubt."

"I have absolutely _no_ doubt," Tikki assured him.

Downstairs, Marinette had leaned against the building's wall and was now lost in thought.

She had listened to the great master's stories about the previous heroes for two hours. She had heard about the true Volpina (the original one, at least), and about the Ladybugs and Coccinelles and Joaninhas of old. She had been told of the dangers her predecessors had faced, of the battles they had fought, of the obstacles they had overcome. She had walked out with a newfound sense of her responsibilities, of the threats she protected the world from - not just Hawk Moth, but dragons and hydras and dark spirits. She understood her purpose better than she ever had.

Yet, for all the stories he had shared, Fu had told her nothing.

He had brushed over the importance of the book, distracting Marinette with tales of sea monsters and kappas and malebranches, so she would not think of the most basic of questions: how had a long lost index of all the miraculous landed into the hands of a teenage boy?

Tikki's expression darkened.

"I have been meaning to ask," she started, flying back inside and waiting for Fu to join her.

The old man followed her, with Wayzz on his shoulder. He closed the balcony door. Tikki hovered in front of him, at her most serious.

"You know who Hawk Moth is, don't you?"

Fu breathed in and clicked his tongue, his expression midway between an enigmatic smile and tired sadness.

"Let's say I have a strong suspicion," he commented.

 _A strong suspicion._ Tikki had strong suspicions of her own. She would even have called them certainties.

" _Suspicion,_ " she repeated, her tone a little cold.

"Did I tell you why I came back to Paris two years ago?"

Wayzz looked a little alarmed, and floated back to get a better look at his master's face. Tikki did not move.

"No," she replied. "I assumed you had a lead about Zarra."

"There is that," Fu murmured. He sighed. "Hawk Moth has not been subtle. Not in the least. He had been trying to get our attention, plastering messages on every wall of every major city of every continent _well_ before he unlocked Nooroo's powers. He wanted to lure us to him, to get in touch, and I ignored him."

Tikki sighed.

"Lila's pendant was _very_ accurate a copy of Volpina's necklace," she noted. "It nearly fooled me. But I could not sense Vixx."

Fu nodded.

"He has been sending out messages in bottles ever since we lost Zarra. He did not just send them, though. He had them mass-produced, sold in every store, hanging from women's necks, printed on teenager's clothes and shoes, displayed on billboards and TV screens all over the world. I doubt he suspected there was no one left to listen but me."

The red Kwami floated down, landing next to the phonograph that had long held her Miraculous, along with those of her brothers and sisters.

"Why did you not get in touch _before_ he enslaved Nooroo?" she exclaimed. "Why? And _why_ give Plagg to his son when Hawk Moth is so set on capturing us both?"

Fu stared at a spot on the floor, giving it his full focus.

"Gabriel was a snake of a boy and grew into a snake of a man," he ended up replying. "I wanted to observe him, to figure out what he wanted from us. I _had_ planned to contact him, but he acted before I could reach out. We all saw how it went."

Tikki digested that. She did not like it, not the slightest bit.

"What about _Plagg?_ " she snapped.

Wayzz intervened at that, darting between his sister and the old man.

"If master Fu is right about this, Plagg is exactly where he should be," the turtle explained. "Where miracles are needed."

###

"Rescue me before I fall into despair."

\- A song by The Police

###

It was well past ten when Chat Noir finally landed on the roof of Lila's home.

While he had spent most of his day (in and out of costume) with his new classmate (in and out of costume), at no point had he asked for important information, such as her last name and phone number. That would have been useful.

As things were, he had found her address in her student file, which he had spent a solid hour of searching (it had been hidden in plain sight on mr. Damocles' desk).

When the young hero arrived at Lila's, the first thing he noticed was how big the house was. Not 'Agreste mansion' big, but definitely on the opulent side of large.

The second thing he noticed was that only one light was on.

His heart sank.

It felt familiar.

He jumped down to ground level and circled the place, counting the windows and doors and ensuring there was not a sign of life, save for that one window on the first floor. It was Lila's room. Adrien could tell because he _knew_ , not just because of the loud XY music his classmate was blasting and that you could hear from the other side of the street.

He climbed to a balcony and peeked inside a darkened room. He found a bedroom with a king size bed, beautiful curtains, beautiful drapery, beautiful everything. It was decorated perfectly, but had that distinct absence of clutter that gave away a room not lived in. The bed was freshly made. The pillows looked new.

He moved to another window and discovered a pristine office where the desk was as empty as Nathalie's.

Chat Noir sighed. He checked the rest of the house and found neither inhabitants nor staff.

He returned to Lila's window and tapped it with a claw. He could see the girl in the corner of the room. She was sprawled on a pile of cushions, dejectedly staring at the ceiling.

The superhero poked the window again, then knocked, then told himself maybe untransforming and using the doorbell as Adrien would have been wiser. It was too late, though: Lila had noticed him. The music had stopped.

The teenage girl scowled and walked up to the window, which she opened with deliberate slowness.

She beamed at him.

"Chat Noir! I'm so glad to see you!"

"Hi there. Can I come in?" he asked.

She leaned out of the window and looked around, tense as a bowstring. After a few seconds of careful checking of their surroundings, she blinked and took a step back.

"Ladybug isn't with you?" she asked, relaxing.

"Not tonight. She has her own patrol routes."

Lila lowered her eyes, her shoulders sagging in dejection.

"Good," she murmured. "Good. I wasn't really up for a visit from her today."

Adrien sighed, heart sinking.

"Are you alone? Can I come in?" he asked again, trying to force a smile onto his face.

"My parents will be home soon," she told him. "They are having dinner with Stella Spotlight at the embassy. They could not miss it."

Chat Noir knew the fading superstar that was Stella Spotlight was not about to have a meal with anyone: she was promoting her latest movie in Australia. He knew that because his father a designed her dress for the opening night she was supposed to attend.

"I won't stay long, then."

Lila moved out of the way, keeping her head low and looking at him from under her lashes.

"Not that I mind your visit but… Why are you here? Is something wrong?"

Adrien slipped in, taking in the room's decor. Clearly, Lila liked cushions, the color orange, music that was only pretend music made by a computer and sung by an hologram, and… wind instruments. He spotted two clarinets, an oboe and three flutes. Also, an ocarina, but that one was made of plastic and looked like it was there to decorate her shelves. It was orange too.

He walked to the oboe and took a closer look at it.

"You play music?" he asked.

"Did she send you?" Lila said at the same time.

Chat Noir turned to her. Silence fell, but only for a few seconds.

"Did she?" his classmate added, wrapping her arms around herself and staring at the floor. The rest of her sentence was barely audible. "I'm sure she was worried I would turn into a monster again."

Adrien's stomach twisted in guilt. He had come to rummage through her things and look for his father's book, and suddenly felt like dirt for coming up with that idea to begin with.

"It's not uncommon for me to check on Hawk Moth's victims after they are released," he said, because that was true.

Lila peeked at him, hesitant. Whatever she saw on his face seemed to convince her.

"Then thank you very much," she said, taking two tentative steps towards him. "It was nice of you."

He blushed, embarrassed, and couldn't meet her eyes. A nervous grin spread on his face.

"It's just, you know… I mean. Hm. Y-you know, she _really_ is sorry," he announced. "Over what she did."

For a split-second, Lila went cold as ice. Then, her lips started quivering. She teared up, keeping her eyes wide open so he would not see her crying.

"I don't care that she is," she replied. "It's not g-going to fix things! Y-you don't k-know what she did. You weren't there! It was _bad_. It was really bad. And n-now Adrien will never talk to me again, and and and I-I really liked him, and he will t-tell everyone and my entire school will hate me because of her."

"Don't cry, don't cry!" he exclaimed, panicking and joining her to put his hands on her shoulders. "For a start, Adrien wouldn't just tell everyone about whatever happened. He wouldn't. I mean, I rescued him a few times by now. He's not the kind."

Lila took a deep, trembling breath.

Chat Noir did the same, if a bit more discretely.

" _And_ she told me what happened. Sort of. Now, I really don't know what was going through her mind, because she's _never_ like that, I swear. It's so unlike her."

"She was _jealous_ , that's what was going through her mind," Lila retorted. "She's in love with Adrien. Don't you know that?"

Chat Noir stilled. His hands fell off her shoulders, slipping down and dropping to his sides.

"I… do," he said.

He had heard Ladybug's scream when Volpina had threatened to drop that illusion of him, and that second, desperate yell when he had thrown his baton at the images. He had seen his partner ready to surrender her earrings. She had frozen while fighting the Mime the first time she had crossed Adrien's path. She had stuttered and blushed and fumbled over her words. She had told him he had his mother's smile.

He was not blind.

"I do," he murmured again. "But sometimes we do silly things when we are jealous. Copycat… Copycat was my fault. I was the one who made him angry, about a girl I liked."

Lila fluttered her eyelashes, causing a lone teardrop to roll down her cheek. She swiped it away as quick as she could.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I might have told him I was dating the girl he fancied," Chat Noir explained, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't think that through."

His classmate chuckled. He scowled a little, and that was enough to make her swallow that giggle back.

" _Anyway_ ," he exclaimed, "I felt very bad about it. Still do. I'm sure she does."

Lila's tears came back, and he panicked a little.

"Come on," he murmured, "I… Uh…"

"I'm okay!" the teenage girl announced, perking up, with the fakest smile he had ever seen. "But you should get going. My parents will be here any moment, and you have a city to patrol."

She wanted him to go. He hesitated.

"Can I drop by another day?" he asked.

Lila gave him a subtle assessing glance, which she hid behind a flattered smile.

"Only if you want to," she replied, taking his arm and leading him to the window.

Chat Noir looked around again, listening to the silence of the house around them.

He felt his classmate tense.

"And not because you feel sorry for me," she added, her voice sharp and icy.

"It's not that!" he exclaimed.

She looked away, her anger concealed behind a dejected facade.

"It's not that," he quietly repeated. "I know how it feels to go home to an empty house."

###

Once again, and again, and again, and again - forever and ever and never and everywhere - the question echoed through the void.

"Where are we? Zarra, where _are_ we? What happened?"

Human minds could not process all of time and space at once, so there was no point answering that question. Audrey had already forgotten asking it. Zarra pressed herself closer against the woman's chest; wrapping her fading human hands around her body.

"It's alright," the Kwami said, once again and again and again. "But don't let go of me. Just don't let go of me."

###

Adrien woke up at seven in the morning to a knock on his door, even though he had fifteen minutes left before having to get out of bed to be downstairs in time for breakfast.

There was another knock, then Nathalie tried to talk to him through the door.

"Adrien," she called. "Adrien, are you up?"

"Y-yes. A second, please!"

"Can I come in?"

"Wait, wait!" the boy replied, jumping out of bed and running to the door.

He opened it, trying to focus on Nathalie despite his blurry, gooey eyes.

She cleared her throat.

"You father wants to speak to you immediately," she announced. "He is waiting for you downstairs. Please waste no time getting dressed. The matter seems urgent."

Adrien paled, jolted awake. His legs nearly gave in under him.

 _The book. He noticed the book is gone._

"I-I-I'll get dressed and join him," he said. "I-I won't be long."

"Good," his father's assistant commented. "I will go tell him that."

She left, closing the door behind her.

The teenager stood there, trembling, until Plagg emerged from under his pillow.

"Lie?" he suggested.

"I _can't_ ," Adrien told him, his voice strangled. "I can't. The office is filled with cameras. I'll be on the footage for sure. _You'll_ be on it." - He noticed what he was saying. - "And that would be wrong anyway. I have to tell him I lost it."

"Are you sure?"

"No. Yes. No. It doesn't matter," Adrien snapped, gathering clothes and trying to shove himself into them.

Minutes later, if not seconds, he was running down the stairs to his father's office. He paused in front of the door, throat clenched. 'His anger will be worse than Hawk Moth's', he had told Plagg. That had not been a figure of speech.

He closed a fist and lifted it to knock on the closed door. His had stopped inches from it. It took all of his courage to tap the door once. He was not sure he would have managed a 'twice', but Gabriel answered the first knock.

"Come in," he snapped.

Adrien did.

He found Gabriel seated at his work table, his hands bridged in front of him. His expression was hard to read. The anger was there - it _was_ \- but it did not really show on his _face_. There was a trembling to his hands, a tension to his shoulders, a hint of something in the atmosphere that made his son want to run away.

"Please sit," the designer said. "It would seem you have a mystery to elucidate."

Adrien froze into place, skin clammy. He had faced monsters. He had fallen from the sky. He had nearly died on dozens of occasions.

He had never been this afraid.

"Sit," his father repeated.

"ImeanttoputitbackIamsorry," the boy blurted out. "IswearImeanttoputitback."

" _Sit_ ," Gabriel yelled.

He collected himself in the blink of an eye, taking one long breath and holding in it. Adrien was halfway through the room before the man could release it. The teenager sat as ordered, sliding on the bench until he was face to face with Gabriel.

"You 'meant to put it back'," his father drawled.

Adrien's spine went as rigid as a rod of steel.

The quiet, patient tone was worse than shouts and open rage. There was more of a sense of danger when Gabriel was this composed. Adrien did not even know _what_ he was scared of. He would lose his school privileges, that was a given, but he had no idea what else to expect.

"I-I-I was… I just w-wanted to take a look at it."

Gabriel sighed.

"I suppose some curiosity was to be expected," he remarked. "It _is_ a book about heroes, and your interest in them is not the best kept secret. From the way you acted around miss Ladybug when she was here on the day our home was attacked, it's clear you are besotted with the girl."

Adrien said nothing. His father studied his face.

"Still," the man continued, "this development is unacceptable."

"Please don't be angry," the teenager murmured.

There was a silence. Adrien tried not to look away as Gabriel's eyes assessed him.

"I am not angry," his father ended up declaring. "I am disappointed that you would not only snoop through my possessions, but also take the liberty of 'borrowing' them. However, the punishment here needs not be excessive. If you give the book back - preferably in the state you found it - I will be lenient."

Adrien closed his eyes to gather his courage then met Gabriel's eyes.

"I. I can't, Father. I don't have it. I don't know where it is."

Something dark flickered on Gabriel's face, something mean and foreign that Adrien had never seen there before, a brand of rage that went beyond any kind of anger his father had ever displayed in his presence. Gabriel could be curt and snappish. He had a temper. Seeing him angry was a common occurrence. But his anger was always closer to exasperation than it was to rage. He never got so furious that you could see his hands tremble and his nerves twitch.

This was new.

Then, all of a sudden, all of that tension vanished.

Gabriel sighed, lowering his forehead against his hands. He straightened up, pinched the bridge of his nose, and put his hands on the table.

"What did you do with it?" he asked. "Did you give it to someone?"

"No. No. I took it to school to read it during lunch break, and when I came home, it was no longer in my bag."

His father stared at his own hands, his expression totally blank.

"I. See," he murmured.

"I'm sorry," his son said. "I kept my bag with me at all times. I don't know what happened."

Gabriel raised a hand to shut him up.

A moment went by.

"You're putting me in quite a difficult position," Gabriel said. "I don't think you realize."

"I'll keep looking. I swear I will. I'll find it. And if I don't, I'll pay you back. I have a saving account with the earnings from my modeling work, don't I?"

Gabriel sighed again, shaking his head.

"No," he said.

"I don't know how long could take, but…"

"Money is not the issue here. Adrien, that book is not mine. It is an invaluable, one of a kind piece of tibetan literature that was loaned to me by a private collector. It is priceless, not because of its inherent value, but because it was _not for sale._ "

Adrien blanched. He wondered if there was _any_ hope of finding the book. He had not asked Lila, after all. He would have to.

Gabriel pushed a white box towards him. The logo of his "Butterfly" brand was drawn on it in golden letters, above an elegant 'haute joaillerie'. Adrien's father opened the box over a row of accessories. Adrien recognized the first piece of jewelry quickly enough: it was a fox tail pendant, identical to Volpina's. Next to it was a golden comb. Next to the comb was a set of red earrings with black dots, similar to Ladybug's but not exactly identical. The black dots were circled in gold, for a start.

"Miraculous?" Adrien asked.

"Replicas," Gabriel corrected. "They are part of our lower price range selection. They were inspired by the book you 'misplaced'."

"Copied, you mean," his son commented.

"Yes. It was an order of sorts. That collector contacted me to design the whole set for her, in the best materials possible, 'no expense spared', the best quality our goldsmiths and jewelers could manage. However, she had no money and I do not run a charity. As she only wanted the best replicas possible for her collection, rather than unique pieces, we agreed on covering the costs of her order by mass-producing lower grade copies. It proved a sound choice. The designs are very popular."

"For copies," Adrien said.

His father rolled his eyes.

"I can safely say all of the art in that book has been in the public domain for a while, Adrien. And you might want not to lecture me about _theft_."

The teenager swallowed his tongue.

"Where did you last see the book?" Gabriel asked.

"At school," his son replied. "In the library, before my fencing lesson."

"Well then. I'll get in touch with mr. Damocles and investigate."

###

"Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!"

\- Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

###


	2. Chapter 2

"I'd rather not have a soul than not to have a brain."

"Stop writing in your textbook."

"Just stop!"

"Very mature, Audrey."

\- Notes written in an elegant script on a sheet of lined paper.

###

The fox girl had been an excellent choice.

When you could no longer put your enemy at risk, guile became a requirement, and young Lila had guile in spades. She had been among the best of Hawk Moth's minions, nearly managing - not once, but _twice_ \- to trick Ladybug into surrendering her Miraculous.

Volpina had come _so_ close to winning, without having to land a single blow. At no point had Chat Noir been in danger. At no point had he been hurt. As far as changes of strategy went, sending an illusionist had been a success: it had kept the boy safe, while dispelling any suspicion he might have had that his father had discovered his secret identity, while nearly defeating Ladybug. Everyone's feelings had played to Hawk Moth's advantage, from Ladybug's starry eyed adoration of Adrien's to Lila's crush on the boy, which ensured both of the girls would protect Adrien. The approach had hit the perfect balance between caution and efficiency.

Then, of course, Adrien had called Volpina's bluff and dispelled her illusions.

The best laid plans of moths and men often went awry.

Of course Adrien would be the thorn in Hawk Moth's side. He was his mother's son.

It raised the stakes. That was fine. Gabriel was not afraid of gambles. If he could not win, he did not play, but the current situation was nowhere near impossible to handle.

It his son wanted to slip away to play superhero, he could be kept under closer watch.

If he escaped and joined a battle, he could be kept away from it. He was not immune to hypnosis, as the perfume girl and Manon Chamack had proved.

It as just a matter of enforcing control.

Which would only be necessary if Gabriel did not choke the life out of him first.

He watched his son walk out of his office. He watched the door close. He watched the closed door. And, after five minutes of that, he threw the jewelry box across the office. If the table had not been bolted to the floor, he would have flipped it. As it was not an option, Gabriel had to settle for pacing and raking his hands through his hair.

 _The book._

 _The. Book._

When Nooroo, concerned by his restlessness, emerged from under Gabriel's jacket, the designer gave up on pacing and went to sit at the computer instead. There was nothing he loathed more than making a spectacle of himself. He knew the Kwami observed him at all times his Miraculous was not locked in its box, but there was a difference between being aware of being watched and feeling actual eyes on you.

Gabriel swiped the screen and opened the security system interface.

His rage was turning to tiredness.

Nooroo, hesitant, flew closer and closer, stopping above his master's right shoulder and hovering. He was afraid of Gabriel, which was just _fine_ , because it meant he had enough brains to be scared. Zarra, in this very situation, would have chattered endlessly. She couldn't stop talking. She couldn't stop _singing._ Nooroo was quiet and shy, which was quite a contrast to his sister's exuberance, but how much of that quietness was due to his circumstances was hard to say. For all Gabriel knew, the pink Kwami had been joyful and noisy before falling into his hands.

The stylist checked the hallway's cameras to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

"Help yourself to the candy box," he murmured. "We still have strawberry belts."

"Thank you, master. I'm not hungry right now."

 _Suit yourself._

Gabriel shook his head, replaying the footage of Adrien's previous visit to his office. He watched his son move Audrey's portrait, stare at the safe and mull over opening it or not. He had been talking to his Kwami, obviously, though the black creature was fairly hard to spot with the black wallpaper. Still, you could catch glimpses of the flying cat, when it passed in front of its master. The most blatant giveaways of his presence, however, were the way the safe opened, and how the book jumped straight into Adrien's hands.

The boy and his kwami had opened the safe, looked straight at a Miraculous, and focused on the book. At _least_ one of them was dumb as a pile of bricks.

It was clear from Adrien's behavior that what he had seen in the codex had not been enough for him to uncover his father's secret. Gabriel was not certain of what kind of reaction discovering one parent's was one nemesis' entailed, but he imagined it involved a lot more yelling and heartbreak. Not that he planned to ever find out.

"What will you do now that the book is gone, master?" Nooroo asked, not quite managing to conceal the relief in his voice. "It will be difficult for you to unlock the ultimate power of the Miraculous without it."

"I believe I shall continue working on the translation using the high-resolution scans of the book I have at my disposal."

Dismay flickered on Nooroo's face.

Gabriel smirked.

"Welcome to the digital age," he commented. "Now, the scans would not help me much if the codex was enhanced with magic or invisible ink, but they are better than nothing. My primary concern is mostly 'who has it?'. In the best-case scenario, some idiot recognized a valuable antique and will attempt to sell it." - The video was still running. He closed it. - "In which case my contacts on the black market will inform me of it in a matter of days. Or Ladybug found it and we can expect an unpleasant knock at the door."

"And you think that is what happened," Nooroo commented.

"Do I believe the teenage girl who is most likely a third year student at my son's school got her hands on the codex? _I don't know, Nooroo, WHAT DO YOU THINK?_ "

The Kwami shrunk away.

Gabriel breathed in, his upper lip curling in anger.

"The situation calls for immediate damage control," he told the butterfly, taking his brooch off. " _Back to the box,_ Nooroo."

###

"Forty-eight hours, Romuald. Forty-eight hours from the moment you gave the boy the watch and the moment it was stolen from him. Not even that! I told you your son was not ready. I told you he would never be, with his little clothes and his little drawings and that 'artistic' side of his. Not a sign of the sense of responsibilities befitting of an Agreste. But did you listen to me? No, of course not. Look where that got us!

A _legacy_ destroyed, Romuald. The watch was ours to guard and had been since the rule of Henri IV. It was our only hope to recover what had been stolen from us, a hope now dashed because of a careless teenager who could not follow the most basic of instructions.

The next time you feel like telling me my advice on childrearing is unwelcome, remember how well the education you provided worked out."

\- A letter from Eléanore Agreste to her nephew Romuald, April 1990

###

"Where _is_ she?" Adrien moaned after circling the schoolyard four times, checking every side room, and pacing in front of the school for the best part of ten minutes.

He had arrived early. He couldn't expect Lila to show up thirty minutes before the bell just because he wanted to talk to her, especially when she had no way to know he wanted to. She would arrive soon. He would ask her about the book and, if he was lucky, the whole mess would be sorted out before his father arrived.

Nathalie had called Mr Damocles and obtained an appointment at ten. It gave Adrien two whole hours to find the book, if it still existed in the known universe.

"Calm down," Plagg drawled. "She'll get here when she gets here."

"I know. I'll check the yard again. Ask of someone saw her."

Plagg's head lolled.

"Adrien, she is the in-your-face type. If she was here, you'd know. Everyone would know." - He yawned. - "Everyone _looooooves_ her, don't they? Just wait for a crowd."

Adrien blinked.

The Kwami was right. The entire school adored Lila. She knew famous directors, Jagged Stone had written a song about her, she had given an interview for the Ladyblog. No one but Adrien had seen Ladybug call her out on her lies. Maybe some people knew about the Volpina incident, but most of the school had gone through an Akumatization of their own by that point, so they wouldn't throw stones. If Adrien kept what he knew to himself - and he had kind of promised to - Lila would enjoy her popularity until someone else found her out.

He would have to talk to her about that too.

Why didn't she just tell people what music she liked and that she played the flute? Why didn't she tell them about _herself_? That would have been enough to get people to like her.

He was lost in thought when Nino arrived and found himself pulled inside, listening to an enthusiastic tirade about a mix his friend had put on Soundcloud and Hearthis and that had gotten enough comments and views to make Alya jealous ('and that Ladyblog has it's own dedicated server and stats through the roof, you should have seen how much hits I got when she put a link to my Soundcloud profile on her Bubbler article!').

Adrien heard Lila arrive because two dozen students greeted her from afar, three more from up close, and because Chloé made a nasty remark to Sabrina. He still listened to Nino until the conversation came to a natural end. He _was_ happy for his friend.

Then he turned and tried to find Lila, who was gone.

"Now come on," he mumbled, looking everywhere. "Was that an illusion or what?"

He checked the entire school again, only to find Lila in their French classroom, alone with Marinette. He could hear Lila's enthusiastic voice from outside as he got closer to the door.

"Oh! I _love_ fashion too!" she was saying. "I used to live near the Istituto Marangoni, so I would get to see the students' art and be _so_ fascinated. Imagine how amazed I was when Giorgio Armani spent an evening at our place when my mother held a business diner. She is really close to him, apparently."

Adrien frowned and peeked inside.

Marinette was making a weird, blank face at Lila, who kept taking.

"But I mean, my parents are close to a _ton_ of artists. I mean, like Jagged Stone and Grace Ouillette and Gabriel Agreste…"

Well, _that_ couldn't be true.

The boy considered walking in to drag Lila outside before she could wrap Marinette around her finger.

Marinette sucked her cheeks in deeply enough for lines to for lines to form on her face. Her lips puckered out like a goldfish's. Her eyes are gone wide.

Lila grabbed both her hands.

"So maybe I could drop your name the next time I see them? Do you have an Instagram or something?"

Chat Noir's senses kicked in and screamed: this is where the world ends.

Marinette opened her mouth wide and took the longest breath. She raised both hands, index fingers pointed at the ceiling. She snapped her mouth shut.

"Ac-tu-al-ly," she ground out with a terrifying, empty eyed, polite look on her face, "that's okay. I kind of won one of mr. Agreste's fashion contests so I don't need an introduction. Ah ah." - She reached for her pocket with a twitching hand and got her phone out. She tapped the screen and showed it to Lila. - "Look, I made. This hat." - The volume of her voice was swaying between strangled mouse and banshee. - "And his son modeled it, too!" she exclaimed with false cheer. Then her faltering restrain shattered. "OH AND BY THE WAY I MADE THOSE GLASSES FOR JAGGED STONE!" - She swiped the screen of her phone. - "He really liked them, so he had me create the cover for his album!" - Swipe. - "Here is the magazine cover about it!" - Swipe. - "And the article! Say! I could ask about you when I see him next week! That is if you think he will remember you, you attention-hogging, conniv-"

Adrien walked in to intervene. Lila whirled away from Marinette and ran out of the room with tears streaming down her face. She gave him a quick, broken look as she raced past him.

The boy found himself face to face with a Marinette who had turned chalk white. Her left eyelid was twitching. Slowly, very slowly, she brought her fists up to her face, then stuffed as much of them in her mouth as she could. She bit down. She turned left in little penguin steps and kept doing so until her back was to Adrien.

"That was a little harsh," he murmured.

Clearly, Marinette knew that. She had tried to keep the tirade in, for nearly ten seconds.

Her tongue started making a nervous clicking noise. She rocked back and forth in rhythm.

Mylène walked in.

"What is going on here? Why was Lila crying?"

She had not arrived alone. Class was about to start and all of their classmates were crowding around the door, most of them worried and frowning. Everyone adored Lila.

"I'll fix this," Adrien exclaimed. "I'll talk to her!"

He ran out of the room.

###

Audrey had met Zarra in 1990, by accident.

She had not meant for things to unfold as they had. When she had climbed to the balcony of that strange old man's house at night, it had been with terrible intentions. But you did what you had to do, right? And what Audrey had to do was 'eat'.

She had odd jobs, when she found some time for that, but she had responsibilities that kept her home. Ironing. She did tons of ironing. She did not have to leave the house when people brought her clothes to iron. The money was always a little short, especially at the end of the month, when her grandma's pension was all spent.

So, sometimes - sometimes - she would sneak through people's open windows and raid their kitchens. She never took much. Bread. Rice. Pasta. The odd bottle of shampoo. She had not meant for _other_ people to go hungry. As far as she knew, no one had ever called the cops. That had to be a sign no one had never noticed.

The old man's house had been… Well. Audrey had nearly climbed back out right after entering. The place didn't scream 'money' or anything. There had been a futon on the floor and _some_ furniture. No expensive decoration. No decoration, really, except for a phonograph and a wooden box. She had still tiptoed to the kitchen and opened the cupboards, finding quite enough food to last through a war.

 _Maybe the old man is not rich, but he is not about to miss one pack of spaghetti out of seventeen,_ she had told herself.

She had stuffed her backpack full and made her way out of the kitchen, going straight for the balcony door.

Then she had spotted the jewelry and frozen dead in her tracks.

The box she had seen was open, and not empty. It wasn't full either. The inside was flower-shaped, with five petals around a yin-yang symbol. Seven different colors, each of them meant for a specific accessory. A picture of each piece was drawn on the empty petals: some kind of necklace on the orange background, a turtle on the green petal, and something Audrey had not been able to recognize on the third empty petal. She had not turned the light on, so all she had to work with had been the orange glow of the closest streetlight.

She had ignored the ugly ring and the polka-dotted earrings resting on the yin and yang (the earrings looked like they had been designed for a five year old girl, really). The golden comb, on the yellow petal, had caught Audrey's attention for a moment longer. But the last accessory had _dazzled_ her.

It had been a peacock inspired brooch, with a blue pearl for the body and the hint of a bird's head, surrounded by a fan of aquamarine 'feathers'.

Now, Audrey might have been a petty thief, but she had drawn the line at stealing valuables. Still… the brooch had been beautiful, just beautiful. Audrey had gazed at it for an eternity, starry-eyed, before deciding that there was no harm in trying it on.

With infinite precautions, she had picked the brooch up and pinned it to her hoodie, before walking into the bathroom to admire the results. She had not expected much: gutter trash and high jewelry did not mix.

 _If you put a little money aside, maybe you can buy something cheap that looks a bit like this_ , she had told herself as she stood in front of the tiny mirror above the bathroom sink.

She had tilted the brooch left. She had tilted the brooch right. She had made it shine under the moonlight that filtered through the window. Sometimes, you just wanted fancy things. Sometimes, you grew tired of owning only three pairs of jeans that did not even reach your ankles. There was no harm in indulging in fantasies, was there?

She had admired the brooch some more.

Then she had seen something float up behind her shoulder, and a small blue face with wide, dead eyes had stared at her in the mirror.

"You are sooooooooooooo pretty," it had whispered.

Audrey's eyes had gone wide.

The floating head had not moved. An instant had gone by before Audrey had reacted in the only sensible fashion when a blue floating head was talking to you.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" she had shrieked, running to the balcony and all but jumping down to the street.

She had raced down the street, down the block, down the next block, and taken a bus to the other side of the city.

Only after that entire trip had she noticed the brooch was still pinned to her hoodie.

###


	3. Chapter 3

"Just google it."

\- The answer to life, the universe, and everything.

###

"Are you sure you want to console _her_?" Plagg asked peeked into the girl's bathroom to check for Lila. "She kind of had it coming."

"Plaaaaagg," Adrien moaned.

The bathroom was empty, with all the stalls open, so he left and looked around, trying to think of where Lila could have run off to.

"You know those are crocodile tears, don't you?" his Kwami commented. "I wish _I_ could lie that well."

"Plagg!" Adrien snapped.

"Just saying."

The boy shook his head, looking around. He did not want to console Lila. He was not sure there was something to console. He had only known her for two days and was more than willing to look for the best in people, but Lila's behavior was already growing tiring. Adrien was nice, not stupid. Lila had known he was there. She had known class was about to start and that the other students would be close by. His new classmate had not liked being called out on her lies by Marinette, so she had set out to destroy her. 'The nice, amazing new student driven to tears by a vain classmate'. As much as Adrien thought Marinette had overreacted, she did not deserve to be crucified for her words. Lila, however, had made sure everyone would turn against her new enemy. He could imagine the storm of 'Marinette, what did you do to her?' and 'that was mean' his friend would be facing.

Lila had resorted to the same kind of underhanded tactics as Chloé, but with a guile that the blonde did not possess. Chloé would lie and cheat, but her schemes were obvious. If she was found out, she stomped her foot or sulked. Sometimes, she would even give an embarrassed giggle. She was such a mix of pride and obliviousness that being caught red handed did not matter to her.

Lila, on the other hand, would lie herself all the way to China just to preserve her image. Apparently, she was not above crushing others in the process.

Adrien didn't like it.

 _Where would you hide if you wanted to be found but not to be disturbed?_ he asked himself.

He checked the roof.

He found Lila sitting in a corner, curled up with her face buried against her knees. She sniffed twice, pretending not to notice him, even though she had chosen a spot with a clear view of the maintenance staircase. When you were a superhero, Adrien mused, that kind of strategy was easy to spot.

After a moment of hesitation, he joined her, sitting next to her on the ground, with his shoulder touching hers.

"A-are you okay?" he asked.

Lila made a 'valiant effort' to 'stop crying', sobbing one last time then taking a deep breath.

"Y-yes," she replied. "Don't worry."

Adrien bit his lower lip, nervous. He did not know what to answer, so he just leaned back against the wall and waited for the girl to talk.

It took nearly a minute for Lila to lift her head, lip trembling.

"I-I don't get why she had to yell at me like that!" she exclaimed. "I-I was just trying to be nice. I wasn't rubbing things in her face or anything."

Adrien did not answer that either. What he wanted to say would not come out. He was too nervous. He was afraid of being too brash.

"T-there's something I have to ask," he ended up saying, looking away.

She turned to him. He swallowed, then shook his head, his nervousness fading.

"Do you want to be popular or do you want to have friends?" he asked her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her shift and sit up straighter.

"What do you mean?" she replied, with a frown in her voice.

"I mean… We have not known each other for long, but… And I-I don't mean to be rude, but you are lying to people and it's not _okay_."

"I wasn't lying to her!"

"I overheard maybe thirty seconds of conversation and spotted two separate lies, Lila. It's… You can't keep doing that. _Why_ are you doing that? It's not making people like _you_."

He looked at her and watched her face twist in fury. She turned away, lips pursed. Her expression drifted closer to sadness, though her scowl had not vanished.

"You don't know what it's like to be lonely," she retorted. "You're Adrien Agreste. Everybody loves you. You don't know what it's like to never be given the time to make friends, not to be allowed to get close to anyone."

He stared at her.

"I'm not hurting anyone, am I?" Lila continued, oblivious to the look on his face. "I'll be gone in a month anyway, if we even stay that long."

Adrien breathed in.

"It's… It's still not right," he replied. "You can't take shortcuts like that. _I'd_ like to be your friend. _I'd_ like to know you better. You, not whatever you think I want to hear about superheroes or whatever I like."

His classmate studied his face with assessing eyes.

Adrien started to fidget, mouth going dry.

"B-but I can't let you lie to my friends," he continued. "I get that it's not easy to get close to people, but it doesn't mean I can just let you trick them like that. _If_ I catch you lying, I _will_ call you out on it."

Lila's expression grew cold. Adrien tensed, feeling like he was face to face with Volpina again. And he was, wasn't he? Most of the other Akuma victims they had faced had changed, in and out. Hawk Moth took the essence of who they were and wrapped it in anger until all that was left of them was purpose and malice. They turned murderous, they turned crazy.

Lila had remained herself. She had received a pretty costume and fancy powers, but they had not changed her. The transformation had not made her smarter, nor more cunning. That sharpness of mind was all her, and so was the impulse to deceive.

"So that's it?" she snapped, eyes watering. "You'll be just like Ladybug? Scream at me? Throw me under the bus, just for trying to make friends?"

He shook his head.

"No," he murmured. "She went too far. Two wrongs don't make a right. But I don't need to yell to call you out, only to make people question what you are saying."

Lila dropped all pretense of sadness and amiability. She stood, fists balled, and gave him a smirk he had seen before, on Volpina's orange lips. He answered that with a tired smile, getting to his feet himself.

"It doesn't mean we have to be _enemies_ ," he pointed out. "I'm still sure you can get people to like you by being yourself."

"I am being myself."

 _I'm going to have to defuse the situation for Marinette,_ Adrien thought. _Lila is not going to forgive her. She's not going to forgive_ me.

"We should get back to class," he replied. "And… If I'm free after class - I think my father's assistant is coming to see mr. Damocles and I'm not sure she'll let me escape - but maybe we could go to the park?"

She snorted.

"I'm busy later," she said. "Maybe another day."

"Maybe another day," he murmured. "Lila, I _really_ want to be your friend, you know?"

"Of course you do," his classmate huffed, walking away. "Come on. I don't want to get in trouble."

###

Visits: 1274

Pageviews: 9427

Pages/Visit: 7.4

Average Time on Site: 00:12:33

\- Ladyblog statistics, 2014-10-07 to 2014-10-08

###

"O-of course," Mr. Damocles stuttered right after Nathalie gave her her card and exhaustive instructions on how to proceed if the codex resurfaced. "That goes w-without saying. We will handle it with the utmost discretion."

Nathalie gave him a perfunctory nod. She was busy encoding the man's contact information into her tablet, and she had raised 'spiritless discourtesy' to an art form on top of that. Whenever she focused, her humanity vanished. It made her a great assistant to someone like Gabriel. He liked her. She was collected and professional, would budge about as much as a prison wall when facing pushy journalists or bratty divas, and worked hard. More importantly (and even if she would have denied it to her last breath), she loved Adrien. Gabriel appreciated that just as much as her stellar job performance. It made her irreplaceable. It made her relatable, enough for Gabriel to pretend to be oblivious to her bouts of clumsiness and internal panic.

She still made short work of the average school headmaster.

"Thank you for your help," Gabriel said, giving Damocles his best smile and shaking his hand. "Your assistance is greatly appreciated."

"I just hope we can find the book, mr. Agreste. I just hope it was not stolen by one of our students."

The designer took the slightest breath in.

"If it was, well… It would be partly my fault, for not informing my son of the kind of rarities I left lying around. I suppose I'll have learned a valuable lesson."

"Still. With some luck, it will be found quickly. Be assured that the whole staff will be looking for it."

"Thank you. Oh, about that. I was out of the country during the last parent-teacher conference. Is miss Bustier in today? I'd like a word with her."

"Why, yes, yes, she is. Her morning classes should be over soon. Let me show you the way to her classroom."

Not five minutes later, Gabriel had dismissed the man and was standing next to his son's classroom, while Nathalie reworked his schedule around an impromptu lunch meeting with a school teacher.

Gabriel was peeking into the classroom and taking a headcount.

Reflekta, Princesse Fragrance, the Gamer, Dark Cupid, Timebreaker, Horrificator, that invisible girl, Antibug, Volpina, Evillustrator, Stoneheart, the charming young blogger who loved to speculate on Ladybug's identity… _That promising young designer_. The Bubbler. Adrien.

All of the third year students at the Collège Françoise Dupont.

No one inside had noticed Gabriel and Nathalie yet - there seemed to be some kind of drama between the children, with most of them throwing curious glances at… miss Dubois-Cheng? Dupain-Cheng?

The teacher was trying to quiet the hushed whispers. Young Volpina kept her chin buried in her fist to hide her smirk.

Gabriel frowned.

"Nathalie," he murmured, with a glance towards the sulking teenager sitting behind Adrien. "Is that the young girl who designed the bowler hat?"

His assistant blinked, looking up.

"Yes, sir. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She signed up for the upcoming dress design contest, and she seems to be getting a few high profile opportunities lately. Glasses for Jagged Stone, the artwork for his newest album…"

"I was not aware she was in Adrien's class," Gabriel replied, tearing his eyes away from the girl.

He was racking his brain trying to find memories of her. Had that girl ever been targeted by one of his lackeys? At this point, the victims were background noise, irrelevant collateral damage. And it was not as if he had spent every second of the Akuma attacks watching his villains rampage through Paris, anyway. Monitoring them was only necessary once Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared.

The girl had not been caught by the Horrificator, had she? Nor been turned by Reflekta? Had she ever shown up in miss Césaire's footage?

Well. He had ticked all of the third year students off his list, one by one. One last butterfly and Lady Wifi's theory about that history book would be confirmed or disproved. Luckily enough, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was already ticked off.

###

Prqd,

Rxu iulhqg C. kdv ohiw wkh qhvw dqg L dp qrw sohdvhg zlwk wkh frpsdqb vkh nhhsv. Vwloo, L wdnh vrph frpiruw lq wkh nqrzohgjh wkdw khu qhz "iulhqg" lv qrw hylo, mxvw plvjxlghg. Vkh kdv ehhq khoslqj rxw - wkh vpdoohvw wklqjv, uhdoob, fdwv rq wuhhv dqg vlplodu wuliohv - dqg vsuhdglqj khu zlqjv durxqg Sdulv.

Vkh kdv ehhq dffhswlqj sdbphqw iru khu jrrg ghhgv, li qrw iodw rxw ghpdqglqj lw. Qrw prqhb, qrw bhw, exw irrg, jliwv, edxeohv. Lw ohdgv ph wr eholhyh wkdw zh duh idflqj d brxqj jluo lq gluh vwudlwv, qrw phuhob vrph eruhg whhqdjhu.

L dp vwloo dwwhpswlqj wr wudfn khu grzq. C. idyruv wkh hoxvlyh, dv L'p vxuh brx uhphpehu, dqg L'p jhwwlqj d olwwoh rog wr udfh diwhu huudqw fkloguhq doo ryhu wrzq. Vkrxog L pdqdjh wr jhw lq wrxfk zlwk C. ru zlwk khu iulhqg, L zloo nhhs brx xsgdwhg.

\- Unsigned letter sent to Mona D'Onofrio, April 1990

###

"Dude," Nino whispered. "Dude, is that your _dad_?"

Adrien took a second to react. For the best part of an hour, he had been trying to grow eyes behind his head in order to check on Marinette. He was worried for her. He had seen the looks everyone threw her way. He could hear the buzzing of hushed gossip all over the classroom. He nearly brushed Nino off, thinking his best friend wanted to talk about Lila. Then the words registered.

 _Dad?_

Nino wriggled his mouth from side to point at the window without turning. Adrien looked that way and froze when he saw his father and Nathalie quietly talking two steps away from the door. Feeling watched, Gabriel peeked at his son and gave him a little nod. Adrien swallowed and nodded back, but his father had already turned away.

"Why is he here?" Nino murmured, over Alya's strangled 'oh my god Marinette, look!'.

"I… I kind of lost something of his," Adrien whispered back. "I took a book from his library, brought it to school, and… well, when I checked my bag after getting home, it was gone."

He felt the desk behind them shift closer. Marinette leaned forward, which Adrien could tell because he felt her breathing on the back of his shirt.

Miss Bustier cleared her throat.

"Adrien, Nino, maybe you would like to share your conversation with the class? I am sure it will enlighten us on Daudet's work."

"Ah, uh," Nino mumbled. "It's just, see, er."

As he did not quite manage to find his words, he pointed at the window instead. Their teacher scowled at him.

"If those visitors are polite enough not to interrupt the class, I suggest you follow their example," she said. "Now, can you tell me the moral of the 'man with the golden brain' short story?"

Nino stared at her with a deer in headlights look. Adrien raised his hand, knowing the answer to that (Nathalie had made him write a ten pages analysis of the book two years before), but their teacher pretended not to notice his intervention. She waited for Nino to come up with something.

Thankfully for him, the bell rang.

The other students started flooding out of the room. At least, Alix and Nathanaël did, closely followed by Kim and Max. Some of the others joined Lila to ask her why she had been crying earlier. Adrien heard Chloé whisper about the presence of 'mr Agreste, do you realize, Sabrina?'. Alya coughed.

"Maaaarinette?" she said.

Adrien could still feel Marinette's breath on his back. He turned.

"Hi?"

Wide blue eyes met his and went wider still. Marinette, whose chin was resting on her desk, did not make a sound. She just slid away without raising her head, shoulders hunched, cheeks sucked in.

That was… weird. Then again, Marinette was prone to panicking and was very, very expressive.

"Hey," Adrien said, in his best 'tame the scared shelter kittens' voice. "You didn't happen to see an old, dusty book lying around, by any chance?"

She shook her head from left to right and didn't quite stop. Alya pushed two fingers against her friend's cheekbone to keep her still.

"You lost a book?" the blogger asked.

Adrien sighed and nodded.

"Real expensive collectible," he whispered, with a quick look towards his father. "I think I dropped it somewhere at school. I've been looking everywhere."

Marinette made a noise somewhere between a giggle and a sob. The 'weird' vibe turned to 'suspicious'. Adrien frowned.

"It's about this size," he said, gesturing. "Leather bound, a golden round drawing on the cover, and full of superhero pictures?"

 _"Superheroes?"_ Alya exclaimed.

Marinette's head resumed her left to right motion. Adrien stared straight into her eyes.

"Yes," he replied to the aspiring journalist, while digging into her best friend's soul (or attempting to). "Drawings of them. Ladybug, Volpina, …"

"Aw!" Alya moaned. "Now I wish I _had_ seen it."

Lila, who was walking to the door with Mylène's arm around her shoulders and a worried Rose walking next to her, paused and listened to them for a second. Adrien shot a quick look at her, but it just made her turn away and leave. He sighed and focused on Marinette again.

"Did you-"

His father walked in, cutting the conversation short.

"Mister Agreste!" miss Bustier greeted him. "What a pleasure to meet you. I had been hoping to see you for a long time."

Gabriel joined her and shook her hand.

"Likewise. I did not have the opportunity to attend the last parent-teacher conference, but I'd like to discuss Adrien. Though I can already see he has trouble with being attentive in class," he finished, with a pointed look at his son.

Adrien swallowed. So did Nino. So did Marinette. Alya just collected her best friend things, carrying them out of the room and dragging Marinette behind her.

"Actually," miss Bustier replied, "Adrien is usually a model student, and I have never seen distraction impact his grades. He is top of the class."

If those words pleased Gabriel, he did not show it at all. His eyes remained on his son. He pursed his lips.

"Wait outside with Nathalie," he ordered. "I want a word with you once I'm done talking with your teacher."

The young model nodded.

"Yes, Father," he said, picking his messenger bag up and walking out with Nino on his trail.

As the door closed, he heard Gabriel's sharp 'you are _still_ studying Daudet?'.

He found Nathalie busy answering emails, drumming on her tablet with both thumbs at superhuman speed.

"I need to talk to a friend," he tried, looking around for the weirdly suspicious Marinette.

Gabriel's assistant barely looked up.

"It will have to wait," she told him. "Your father wants to talk to you, and he won't have the time to look all over the place to find you. Please wait here. I'm sure the meeting with your teacher will be quick."

Adrien sighed and nodded, leaning on the railing to look down to the schoolyard. Nino joined him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, it can't go wrong, you're even better a student than Max."

The blond nodded, still full of apprehension. Nino, despite having been Akumatized after a five minutes conversation with Gabriel, still had no idea of how wrong things could go whenever his father was involved.

It did not take long for the designer's voice to get loud enough for the two boys to overhear.

"... could I expect from someone who works twenty hours a week and not at _all_ for a third of the year?"

Nino winced.

"I take that back."

"I figured you would," Adrien muttered.

"... have any idea of what hard work is, so how could you teach them?" Gabriel continued. "If I had known my son would be getting a subpar education, I would have kept him home."

Nino's hand squeezed harder.

A moment later, the classroom's door opened. Adrien's father walked out, looking down at his buzzing phone.

"Nathalie," he called, not even turning to them. "I need to take that call. I'll be right back. Wait for me in the main hall, will you?"

And, without listening to her 'yes, sir', he walked away.

His assistant took a deep breath and turned her tablet off.

###

The box was opened and the brooch picked up, so Nooroo emerged and faced Gabriel. The kwami looked around in surprise, noticing that his surroundings were different for once. They were not in the attic. They weren't even at the mansion, but in a deserted library. Nooroo's butterflies fluttered around, landing haphazardly on the bookshelves and tables.

He turned to his master, confused, but knowing full well that such an extraordinary change in modus operandi meant trouble.

Gabriel smirked.

"As I was saying," he drawled, _"'damage control'._ Transform me, Nooroo."

###


	4. Chapter 4

The disappearance of the codex was a great loss, and Gabriel could only blame himself for it. Well, he could also blame Adrien, but his father should have learned not to leave magical paraphernalia lying around for teenage superheroes to find, by that point.

It was not like he had never found himself in the same situation before.

The first time a teenage superhero had stolen a priceless magical artifact from him, he had been fifteen, half-naked and soaking wet. Had he suspected a Miraculous user would break into his bedroom to help herself to his possessions, that encounter would have involved a lot more clothes (not just pajama pants, either), glasses, and a taser. As things were, he had walked out of his bathroom a bit before midnight, with a towel over his dripping hair, to find a teenage girl standing next to his desk, fawning over the embroidered shawl he had been working on.

One did not expect to find a peacock-themed superheroine in one's room in the middle of the night, so Gabriel had stared (squinted) at her in disbelief for a solid ten seconds.

He was blind as a bat without his glasses but, despite that, he had been able to tell that the intruder was _beautiful_. Sure, she had been a blur of aquamarine and turquoise, with lustrous golden hair twirling over one shoulder, a featherlike cape trailing behind her, and a… mask on her face, or at least a blue-green foggy something around her eyes. Maybe makeup.

Blind as a bat.

He had still blushed.

Plume - that had been her name, back then - had whirled to him, dropping the golden shawl. The piece of cloth had fallen to the floor, while the two teenagers gaped at each other in perfect silence. The sound of crumpled cloth had startled them out of that trance.

Plume had bolted to the window. That was when Gabriel had noticed the glint of silver in her hand.

The watch.

"WAIT!" he had yelled, running after her and jumping out of the first floor window without a second thought.

She could fly, he could not, but that had not been a problem. He had been trained to land without hurting himself. Mostly. He had limped for three weeks after that, but had only noticed his sprained ankle two hours after Plume's escape, when the adrenaline had left his system.

"WAIT, JUST WAIT!" he had screamed at the superhero as she flew away.

Plume had turned to him, looked at his bedroom window, then back at him.

"D-did you just _jump_?" she had asked, hovering ten feet from the ground, her voice lovely, lovely, lovely and shocked.

Back then, Gabriel had not believed in love at first sight. He had not believed in love, period. He had chalked the beating of his heart up to panic and fascination at first sight. That had to be a thing.

"Give it back!" he had shouted, extending his hand.

Plume had pressed the watch to her chest and flown up two feet.

He had bitten the inside of his cheeks bloody.

Thirty-two hours. That was how long he had managed to protect the most important heirloom his family owned. His birthright. The Butterfly watch.

"It has been passed on to the heir of the family from generation to generation for centuries," his father had told him upon giving him his birthday present. "On the day they turn fifteen. It was ours from the day Jacques d'Agreste saved Henry of Navarre from a demon attack, and has remained with us ever since."

Gabriel knew that story by heart. His great-aunt loved to tell the tale, embellishing it more and more with each iteration. She had told Gabriel of the Butterflies, the 'superheroes' of old. Jacques d'Agreste. His son Henri. His son Quentin. His son Jacques, and so on, and so on, until Charles Agreste had lost both his life and his Miraculous in battle. Or so the story went.

"The legend says the watch will show you the way to the Butterfly Brooch," Romuald had explained, opening the watch. A pink hologram had spread its wings above the clock hands. "Now, I have yet to see evidence of that, but maybe _you_ will. Magic is coming back to Paris. There is that flying girl…"

The flying girl, as it turned out, had to be aware of both the existence of the watch and of when and why it changed owners. Her appearing not two days after Gabriel had received it couldn't have been a coincidence.

(He had later learned it _had_ been a coincidence: Zarra had spotted him checking on the watch on his way home from school. Two millions Parisians and he had walked by the one with a Kwami.)

" _Please_ ," he had pleaded, figuring that being pathetic was the best way to appeal to a heroine's heart. "You can't take it! You have no idea in how much trouble I'll be. It belonged to my dead grandfather, it means a _lot_ to me and my f-dad!"

Being blind as a bat, he had not been able to judge her reaction. Her face - her blurry, darkened, masked face - had… moved.

He had faked utter desolation.

" _Please._ "

"I'm afraid I can't," she had replied after a moment of hesitation, in her best goddess voice. "That artefact is more dangerous than you can imagine. It should never have fallen into civilian hands."

"There must be some kind of mistake," he had replied, wondering if she knew of the watch's bond with the Butterfly Miraculous. "It is just a watch. A _fancy_ watch, but a watch all the same. What kind of danger could it pose?"

"Well, for a start, it could lure demonic creatures to your home whenever you open it," Plume had lied.

She had not been that good at lying.

He had rolled his eyes, which had given him away.

"You know what it _does_!" she had exclaimed.

" _Glow in the dark?_ " he had snapped. "It gives the _time_. And not very accurately, at that."

Plume had flown up two feet, leaning forward until her head was lower than her feet.

"Good try, Gabriel Agreste. I nearly fell for that. But listen and listen _closely_. Your family has no claim on the Butterfly. A Miraculous is not a birthright. You don't get to keep a tracking device that would lead you straight to one. The day you'll deserve a Miraculous, it will find you."

And she had shot through the air, higher and higher, until he had lost sight of her.

He had found himself standing in the courtyard of his home, bruised, scratched and bloody, shouting curses at the sky.

###

"It's alright. It's alright", Marinette exclaimed, talking to herself more than to Tikki. "I just have to tell the truth, or part of it. I mean, Lila _did_ take the book, and she _did_ throw it away. Adrien doesn't have to know that we grabbed it from the trash can, does he? Does he?"

Her Kwami listened to that meltdown with a distracted ear. She had more pressing concerns, namely Hawk Moth's presence in Marinette's school.

The man was looking for the codex, Adrien had said so himself. That put the boy in a difficult position, if not a dangerous one, but master Fu insisted Gabriel would not hurt his own son. Chat Noir was at risk, yes, but only because his identity was a secret.

"Plagg will protect the boy," Fu had promised. "I had not quite expected it would be from _such_ a danger, but your brother is competent enough. Whenever he sets his mind to it."

"You gave him to _Hawk Moth's_ son," Tikki had retorted.

The guardian had sighed and shaken his head.

"Not on purpose, Tikki. I gave the ring to a boy with a courageous soul and a kind heart, who happened to _also_ be Plume's son."

The red Kwami had gaped at those words, eyes riveted to Fu as he kept talking, those words ringing in her head. _Plume._ Tikki had not known, not even suspected that Adrien was related to Zarra's dead chosen.

"Wayzz had felt Nooroo but we had no way to know who his new master was," the old man had explained. "We needed new heroes and we needed them before the city was destroyed. Marinette casually saved my life the moment she met me, so she was an obvious choice. As for Adrien… those children belong together. He is Chat Noir, just as she is Ladybug. I did take his parentage into consideration, but I had not expected Gabriel would swoop so low. In retrospect, I should have thought of the Agreste immediately. They were the most likely to track Nooroo down. I think I did not _want_ to entertain that idea. Even now, I wish we could discover someone _else_ is behind all of this. He is a snake, but… Zarra did care for him."

"He remarked on Ladybug's earrings," Tikki had replied. "When we were in his home to protect him from Jackady. He also tried to get a look at Chat Noir's Miraculous."

That remark had been met with a heavy sigh. Fu had pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away.

"I should have reached out," he had murmured. "I should have."

"Do you think it would have changed his plans?"

Fu had stared into the distance.

"Gabriel is… Gabriel was… Tikki, I don't pretend to be as good a judge of character as Kwami such as you and Vixx. I am only human. I have not lived as long as you have. But I know a dangerous man when I see one, and I _fought_ Gabriel before. With Mona dead and no one trained to handle the Miraculous if something were to happen to me, I did not dare going to him."

" _Fought_ him? What about?"

The old man had looked down at his wrist.

"About Audrey, what else? He was a boy in love. It made him reckless."

That had told Tikki everything she needed to know about Hawk Moth's goals.

Now, she was left wondering what to do.

Fu wouldn't reveal his suspicions to Marinette and Tikki was not able to, not anymore than she could turn to the girl and tell her that Adrien and Chat Noir were the same person. The rules of magic were often inconvenient.

"Alright. So. If he asks, I will tell him I saw Lila walk out of the library with the book," Marinette was saying as she paced from one side of the girls bathroom to the other. "That's enough, right? Of course, she will lie her way out of that, and probably pretend I got it wrong, or maybe that I am saying it to get her in trouble, but…"

Tikki felt Nooroo emerge.

"Marinette," she said, turning to the wall, towards her brother's aura. "Marinette. We need to get away from the school. Now."

###

Hawk Moth opened his eyes and felt the turmoil around him. It helped, it really helped to have no heart. Gabriel thought that, if he had been a caring man, he would have been overwhelmed by every single transformation. Emotions coalesced and twisted around him, they screamed and shouted and caressed and begged, they flickered and died like candles in a storm. Some resonated more strongly than others, some he barely noticed.

Thankfully, he had no empathy whatsoever.

 _Do you know what your problem is, Gabriel Agreste? You don't have a soul._

It was easy for him to brush the emotions away, to ignore them as he plucked a victim out of a thousand candidates ripe for the picking.

He could feel Volpina still, somewhere in the schoolyard, her cold anger mixed with malice and satisfaction. Some girl was freaking out about romantic trouble in an empty classroom. He paused for a second on a lukewarm flame near the school entrance: Nathalie wanted to strangle him (It was a daily occurrence. It made him chuckle.).

Marinette Dupain-Cheng… Her emotions were muted. She had looked distraught when he had seen her exit her classroom, yet he could barely sense her. She was moving, pacing, walking away… He lost her once, found her again, lost her a second time and let her go.

As tempting as it was to attempt to evilize her, it was not the wisest course of action, not when your goal of the day was to deflect suspicion. Things had turned sour enough with Jackady. Having been nearly murdered by his own minion was not Hawk Moth's proudest moment. Akumaized people were unpredictable enough on their own. If Gabriel had to play the 'innocent victim' card again, it was best to avoid potentially taking Ladybug out.

He found Caline Bustier instead. It was not hard. He could hear the yelling in her mind.

He opened a hand and called a butterfly to him.

###

Adrien caught Alya as she left the school. That was the best he could do, with Nathalie watching him like a hawk. He couldn't just escape and look for Marinette, even if he was dying to. Instead, he had to settle for questioning the students who walked by.

"Has Marinette gone home already?" he asked the blogger. "I didn't see her leave."

Alya grinned.

"I… I'm not sure, actually. She told me she had something to take care of. Why? Do you want me to call her? She can't be far."

Her phone was already out. That grin was predatory. Adrien had seen his father grin at business acquaintances. It was that kind of grin. The 'you don't know what you have walked into' grin.

Nino wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Sounds like a good idea," he told his girlfriend. "If she's gone, we could catch up with her."

 _What the…_

Adrien's train of thought was interrupted by a scream coming from the schoolyard. He turned just in time to see mister Damocles fly down the stairs to his office and land at the feet of a new supervillain. It was a woman with white hair and a black costume, who waved two board erasers under Damocles' nose. She slammed them together, sending a cloud of chalk dust into the headmaster's face.

He coughed, then stood and took a chalk from the villain. She smirked.

"The government directives are not the ultimate way to teach children," she told him, pointing at a wall that turned into a black board.

Mister Damocles walked to the black board - clearly against his will - and started writing. He started with a T, then a H, then a E, and continued his sentence with 'government directives are not the ultimate way to teach children'. Then he wrote the whole thing again.

Adrien tried to slip away, but Nathalie caught him by the collar and pulled him back towards the exit. So much for finding a quiet spot to transform. Thankfully, Alya was filming the Akuma attack, and probably liveblogging it. Ladybug would not miss that, would she?

He could follow Nathalie to safety, escape and come back. She would probably drag him home. It wouldn't take too long. Ten minutes lost, at most, if all went well.

The library door opened and Adrien's father walked down the stairs to the schoolyard. The boy watched the new villain whirl to Gabriel. It was miss Bustier. Of _course_ it was miss Bustier. It had to be.

"Gabriel Agreste!" she shouted. "I am the Reeducator. We are going to have a word, and then _some._ "

The designer jumped back, startled, then rolled his eyes and let out a long suffering sigh.

"Seriously?" he mouthed.

The Reeducator slammed her board erasers together.

"Repeat after me," she ordered as Gabriel breathed the chalk dust. "'I will respect the work of others.'"

She handed him a chalk. He sneered but took it.

###


End file.
